Where There Is Sorrow, There Is Despair
by Pessimistic Guardian Angel
Summary: Alex is sent to the SAS thanks to an attempted assassination at school that was covered up as a school shooting gone wrong. But what will happen when he meets the older brother of a bully a year older than him as a recruit in the SAS? And just when he thought his life was settling down... Scorpia plans their way to get back at him, harshly. His life just gets harder and harder...
1. Prologue

**A/N Right, this is the prologue to Where There Is Sorrow, There Is Dispair. I was planning to make it a trilogy, if I ever make it that far. This is a drabble from my drabble fic, Of All Things. If you're reading this before that, please check it out! And if you're reading this because you read that, thanks for keeping up with what I do, altough it isn't really a lot of activity.**

**Disclaimer:**

**Me: If I throw a stick, will you leave?**

**Lawyers seeking to sue: *shaking heads***

**Me: Will you leave if I give you a chew toy?**

**Lawyers seeking to sue: *growl***

**Me: Fine, fine, be that way, be unnecessarily mean. I don't own Alex Rider... Probably. No wait, I don't. Why do these depressing thoughts enter my mind? You know... the ones about me not owning Alex Rider. On with the story!**

* * *

Marcus Sullivan was a new recruit in the SAS; K Unit (including Fox—he transferred back to the SAS) was training them.

Exasperated, Wolf yelled, "Even Cub can do better than that."

Puzzled, Marcus asked who Cub was. As K Unit was about to scoff, a blond head appeared out of nowhere, and K Unit welcomed him warmly.

He had familiar, too-serious brown eyes, as always. Suddenly, Marcus realized something: "Cub" was "Druggie" aka. Alex Rider.

As his jaw was hanging open, Cub turned to him and smirked.

"Welcome to Hell-on-Earth, Sullivan. I guess I'll be training you. Ah, sweet revenge."


	2. Welcome to Hell On Earth

**_A/N I'm free of the restrictions (maybe) of 100 words! I'm happy that I can write relatively desctiptively again, although this chapter wasn't exactly as descriptive as I want it to be (not like that, you dirty minded people out there!). Enjoy anyway, though!_**

**_Disclaimer: _**

**_My dog (Amber): Angel (I think I mentioned it in Of All Things, but Pessimistic Guardian Angel is so long, Pessi sounds strange, Guardian is weird, and Guard is just plain unfitting. So Angel it is, huh?), I'm sad. _**

**_Me: Cool, man._**

**_Amber: No, really. I'm depressed. How should I end my life?_**

**_Me: Oh my god, don't think like that... uh, um, uh, um... Ah! Amber, guess what I got you for your belated b-day?_**

**_Amber: What? Nothing can cheer me up._**

**_Me: A new chew toy after you dissected the other one!_**

**_Amber: Not helping, Ange. Still not making me cheery._**

**_Me: Okay, fine. Guess what else I got you? A TENNIS BALL! ALL BRIGHT AND NEW AND BOUNCY! GO FETCH!_**

**_Amber: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I'M THE HAPPIEST DOG IN THE WORLD!_**

**_Uh, the dog buisiness aside, I don't own Alex Rider. Never will. How many times do I have to SAY that?_**

* * *

_"Paradise was made for tender hearts; Hell, for loveless hearts."_

_-Voltaire_

* * *

_He was cornered yet again__. _

_Couldn't he catch a break? What had he done to anger the fates so much that they wouldn't let him lead a normal life? He blinked up tiredly as he saw his enemies close in, malicious, insane grins all in place. He was in a hellish place—not the SAS, no—with fiery red pits. Mr. Grin had his eternal grin in place, a hard-looking metal pole in his hand. Grief had a scalpel and knife in each hand, muttering about dissections, creeping the poor, cornered boy—excuse me, _Alex_—out. The list of insane people with dangerous weapons and potential ones was growing, and each person Alex had to take down was advancing slowly, savouring his fear. _

_Alex couldn't get himself to move, despite how many times he tried to pull his legs out of their trance. _

"_Alex Rider. Long time no see, eh? Welcome to our place. It's commonly known as Hell. We just… personalized a small corner of it, and reserved it just for you. We know you will come live here with us in everlasting, inescapable pain forever." said one of the people in the back._

_Alex opened his mouth to scream a bloodcurdling scream, but his voice, for some reason, refused to make the sound of alarm. As he desperately, fruitlessly, tried to escape, his hearing sharpened, focusing on a familiar snoring and sheets rustling as they were moved. His eyes widened, and he—_

* * *

Woke up in his bed—that was suspiciously close to looking like a cot, but the Sergeant insisted it was a bed—in the SAS base at Brecon Beacons. His breaths came in short pants, the scene still playing over and over in his head. He couldn't identify the voice that had said those things from the back, but it might be his memory forgetting who it was.

As he rolled over to his watch to see the time, pressing down on the button that would make it glow, he saw happily that it was almost time to wake up. _At least I got an unusually long amount of sleep this time,_ he thought, trying his best to remain optimistic but failing miserably, because a voice in the back of his head said that the long time he slept didn't count because of his nightmares that plagued him. He shrugged the voice off, and got dressed before the rest of K Unit could wake up.

When he finished putting on his gear and uniform. He was glad that MI6 had insisted on the SAS making fitting clothes for him. He walked soundlessly to the other forest critters that were present in the barrack. _Who would be his next victim? _After a not-so-long amount of pondering, he decided that his victim for the day was Eagle. Picking up his Maximum Ride novel, he flung it with perfect aim at the man's groin. He would talk in soprano for a solid two hours, at least, unless he got food. That was the downside of attacking Eagle. When he got food, his high-pitched-voice-because-of-a-hit-in-the-balls disappeared, making the other unit members jealous.

Eagle screeched, sat up, and searched his hip for any weapons available, that stupid man. Didn't he know that in that time that he was wasting, he could have gotten a hold of his boots and thrown them at Alex? Eagle's very manly noise woke up the others, who glared at Eagle, then at Alex, who was giving them the most innocent look ever. His hair was tousled in just the right way, making him look innocent, although none of them knew how it was possible.

Alex, who had an angelic grin in place, read the time off his watch, gazing at the unit members amusedly while they were swearing, toppling over each other, and hastily throwing their uniform on. Ben was the only one who could somehow spare enough time to check his hair in the mirror, tweaking it here and there just to make his comrades angry.

The distressed unit made their way to the mess hall, swearing at Alex and Eagle. They stumbled into the mess hall itself, Alex making small talk with Eagle just to hear him with his soprano voice.

"So, Eagle, how are you feeling?"

"Cut the crap, Cub. Why'd you do that to me, anyway?" squeaked Eagle.

"Well… You kind of… Okay. Remember that time you dissed my hair? It kind of came up in my mind when I looked at you this morning," Alex supplied, grinning at Eagle's incredulous face. "I still remember that, even though it was approximately a month ago. The details too, Eagle. I remember everything from that day." _But why can't I remember who that voice belonged to?_ Alex thought, a small frown crossing his face for a millisecond before he smoothed it out.

"Tough luck, Eagle," snickered Ben. Snake and Wolf were not morning people, though, so they wisely kept their mouth shut.

"You—"Eagle shrieked, but stopped mid-sentence when he remembered he still had his unusually shrill voice. But it was too late; the whole mess hall had heard, and most were barely stifling laughs, shooting an occasional amused look at the group, glad for such entertainment.

Of course, a few months ago, Alex would never have risked such a feat. He had been forced to come here due to an assassination attempt at school, though MI6 covered it up as, again, a school shooting gone wrong. Alex was to stay there until the threat was neutralized. Those were Mrs. Jones's words, not his. In the time that he was here, K Unit had come to accept him as a unit member, although it was encouraged thanks to Ben's friendliness towards him and his saving their sorry butts all the time.

But K Unit had provided good entertainment at the wrong time. The Sergeant stormed in, face beet red, glowering at the whole mess hall.

"Who is responsible for this?" he demanded, pointing at his hot pink hair and at Eagle. Everyone had gone very silent; it would have been funny, except they didn't dare laugh in front of the Sergeant about the prank on him and Eagle's shrill voice at that moment.

"Who is responsible for this?" the furious man repeated, hands swinging animatedly at his sides. "If you don't reveal yourself _right now_, the whole SAS camp will have to pay for this!"

An exasperated, yet somehow resigned sigh escaped Alex's mouth. Oops.

"Cub! How dare you do such a thing?" the Sergeant bellowed.

"It was just a prank," Alex muttered under his breath rebelliously.

"Repeat that."

"It was just a prank, sir."

"You will run the assault course ten times after breakfast without stopping. If you stop, you will have to run double that. And then double _that _if you stop again, and so on. Got it?" roared the Sergeant. "Now, how do you get the dye off?"

"It's a special dye that won't come off even if you wash it. You need the other shampoo. The one that makes the dye go away. Even then, it'll take around a week to make the colour go away completely, sir." It was a hair dye that he had gotten from Smithers for a mission. Why the hot pink hair, you ask? You wouldn't want to know. Anyway, he had forgotten to give it back—he actually did forget it. Alex almost dyed _his_ hair pink again because he forgot about the dye-disguised-as-a-shampoo—and since he couldn't go visit Smithers from the SAS at Brecon Beacons, he just kept it. It was useful.

The Sergeant growled. "Get me the other shampoo."

"I used it up, sir."

"Then make me a new one!" he snarled.

"It was specially made by Smithers, sir, and only he knows how to make it."

"Then contact that Smithers of yours!"

"I can't, sir. He's at the MI6 headquarters in London, sir."

"What would he be doing there?" now curiosity was seeping into the Sergeant's voice.

"He's the gadget maker of MI6, sir."

"Right. I will have to contact him. And Cub, if you don't run the assault course ten times without stopping, you will regret it. And the rest of K Unit, you will be training the new recruits this time, so go over to the maggots."

"Yes sir!"

The Sergeant turned on his heels and stormed out of the mess hall as loudly as he had entered.

"Whoa, who stole his chocolate?" Eagle muttered, making the sentence sound peculiar thanks to his now-high-pitched voice. As he heard his own voice, he looked disturbed, and he scurried off in search of the mush they called food in the SAS. The rest joined him, dazed at that the prank they had decided to pull—well, Alex was the one that came up with the idea and put it to action, but for the sake of the story… Let's say that K Unit pulled it off—and the aftermath that had followed shortly.

After an uneventful breakfast, and several attempts to swallow and digest the mush they said was _edible_, Alex made his way over to the assault course, wallowing in self-pity until he was in a ten metre radius of the course.

When he finished the gruesome course, most of his body was covered in mud. Alex trudged over to the place where the trainees were crowded. Alex was grinning from ear despite his cleanness—or the lack of—as he joined the crowd of twenty-something-year-olds, though he was terribly out of place. Suddenly, he heard Wolf say, "Even Cub can do better than that," and a crisp reply of, "Who's Cub, sir?"

Amused, he pushed his way through the crowd, making his way to his unit, to be greeted warmly.

"You survived!" yelled Fox.

"Did you get hurt?"

"Ah, always the mother hen medic, Snake. The answer is no."

"My voice is normal now!" said a certain Eagle triumphantly, grinning at Cub.

"Yeah, it is. Such a shame, though. Your voice sounded so much better when it was an octave higher."

The only greeting he got from Wolf was a grunt, though, as always. K Unit remembered a time when he wasn't so open, though. He hadn't talked at all when he had come to them the second time, and was even more withdrawn than his first visit to the SAS camp. His eyes were strangely haunted, whispering of things that a child shouldn't have seen. But he was more open now, although the look returned once in a while.

Alex turned his head to say that he was Cub to the recruit that had asked about his existence, but instead smirked cruelly when he saw who it was. It was Marcus Sullivan, the older brother of Leon Sullivan, who was sixteen-years-old and a year older than Alex. _This is all so fun and amusing,_ thought Alex, smiling to himself in his head, _he's mouthing "druggie" at me in astonishment right at this moment!_

"Welcome to Hell-on-Earth, Sullivan. I guess I'll be training you. Ah, sweet revenge." Alex smirked to himself, thinking of all of the things he would do to Sullivan now that he had a higher rank. Back in school, the brat Leon brought his brother to school all the time, and Marcus had told Alex that he—Marcus—would try out for the SAS, and that he would make it, unlike him—Alex—who was just a "druggie gang leader". _He was always so annoyingly arrogant, _recalled Alex. _W__ell, I beat you to the spot, jerk. Although I can't really punch you in the face like I always wanted to._

But driving him to the ground with extra-hard training would have to suffice. For now.

**I don't know how this turned out. Please give me pointers and tips if I did anything wrong! Constructive critisism is appreciated... I guess. Please tell me how I can improve! Thanks!**


	3. The Comforts of the Moon

**A/N Right. I'm really happy that people added this story to their story alert and favourites. Thank you, thank you! And also, thanks to the reviewers!**

**Guest: Thank you! I don't... really have a timeline, but I'll try to post at least once every week... that is, until summer break ends.. I guess I'll make a new schedule then, then... Thanks for reviewing!**

**Guest: They should really let you make up the names again. This is weird, isn't it? Anyway, thank you for your compliment and review! I lvoe your support, and I'm glad that you'll continue reading!**

**Anonomon13: Hey Anonomon! Yeah, I am. It was a request, I think. A lot of people said that it would be a good story. Thank you for the compliment, and thanks for your review!**

**mintparsleyoreganothyme: Hard name... Did I get it right? Thank you for your review! I was hoping to make this a trilogy, if it turns out okay :)**

**Disclaimer: This piece of writing is written by a girl that is writing at this moment. She has been listening to music all day, and is trying to memorize "Rhythm of Love" by Plain White T's. She is also hoping that she won't have to go outside today, and that she will memorize the song. She always gets the part about the "when the moon is low" melody wrong, and so on. She is very frustrated. She is now doubting her sanity because she keeps on talking in third-person in this disclaimer. Do you think that she is Anthony Horowitz? If your answer was Yes, then she doubts your sanity too. "Let's go to the mental hospital together, fellow insane friend!" she says. If you answered No, she thinks that you are a sane, and smart person. Congratulations!**

* * *

_"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."_

_-Anton Chekhov_

* * *

"Rider? Why are _you _here?" Marcus spluttered.

"Me? Oh, I'm in a unit. The one that's supposed to train you, coincidentally." Alex replied, and suddenly remembered Alan Blunt saying, _"Where others see coincidences, I see conspiracy." _Or _something._ But he hadn't planned this out, and MI6 certainly wouldn't have wanted their secret weapon being known to a mere trainee.

"_You?_ Why would you be here, anyway?"

"That's really not for you to know; I'm not very fond of you, as I believe you've realized by now."

K Unit immediately recognised Alex's defense mechanism. They didn't know him too well; they had only become comfortable with each other a few weeks ago, after all, but they still knew him enough to notice that he became even more witty, sarcastic, and rude when they approached a topic that he didn't want to talk about.

"Are you even _allowed_ to be here? I don't think you're even _old _enough. You have to have at least four years of normal military training to be able to apply, and since you can only apply for the army when you are around sixteen years old, and added with four years of normal military training, you would have to be around twenty!"

"Trying to be smart, Sullivan? We are all _amazed _by your memorizing skills," Alex said, sarcastic. "But I'm allowed to be here, yes, not like it's your business. I'm just humouring you."

The trainees and K Unit had crowded around the two trash-talking man-and-boy, and, encouraged by the audience, as bullies always were, Marcus drew back his clenched fist in a way that suggested that he hadn't learned actual fighting techniques, and hinted of many fights. But Alex just stood there, completely relaxed to the untrained eye. However, Ben's eyes weren't completely untrained; he had had enough of espionage to tell that Alex wasn't as relaxed as he made himself out to be. His shoulders were a tad too tight, his arms a little stiff, and his face was, under the mask of carelessness, disapproving.

As Marcus let his fist fly, Alex calmly caught the fist, saying, "I should have said this a few seconds ago: I wouldn't do that if I were you. I have a higher rank than you; your older age doesn't always aid you. Don't you think before you act? If that fist had actually hit—which was _very_ unlikely—the chances of you actually rising in the ranks would have been miniscule."

Marcus, enraged, snarled at Alex, who, in turn, stared at him indifferently. He swept his gaze across the recruits, and hollered, "Okay, split into five groups of forty! We will be starting the Personal Fitness Training! The group over there, yes, there, to the right, you go with Eagle. That group to the left, go to Snake. The group over there, go to Fox. The bunch over to the area where Wolf is, go with him. The rest come with me." Wolf shot Cub a fierce glare that Alex deflected with a stunning smile because Alex had temporarily stolen his spot as a leader. The possible-recruits started to walk towards their assigned members, but Wolf raised his hand in a universal "stop" sign, and K Unit huddled.

"Why are we supposed to train them, and do selection, anyway? That's what the Training Wing does."

"Apparently, the Training Wing went on strike. They refuse to have to train those maggots."

"But that's their job!"

"Yes, but not everyone _likes _their job!"

"So that's why we're left with them?"

"Uh, _duh_, Eagle."

"Right."

After that short conversation, Wolf turned to the twenty-something-year-old men, and bellowed, "Since the Training Wing refuses to train this time, we are in charge of you. We will not train you the exact way that the Training Wing would have trained you, but you will go through similar training methods. Got that?"

"Yes sir!" they coursed, and moved to their assigned unfortunate K Unit member.

"Fox's group, you go to the assault course." Wolf said, and Alex scowled, remembering that morning's assault course terrors.

"Snake, your group can go hiking. Eagle, you can go to the lake. My group and Cub's can go practice some hand-to-hand combat."

"We'll whip your ass!" one of the men in Alex's group said to Alex, his voice ringing clear. The K Unit members, other than Alex, of course, stared at the man who dared to talk like that.

"We'll see, won't we?" Alex retorted, voice deadly calm. Then he broke out in a grin, jogging to the makeshift "dojo", others following.

* * *

When they arrived, Wolf called Alex over, and hollered over to the recruits, "Does anyone know any kinds of martial arts or hand-to-hand combat?" All the hands went up. Wolf nodded his approval.

"Cub and I will demonstrate hand-to-hand combat first in slow motion, then in normal."

Alex and Wolf stood face to face in the usual combat position—one foot forward, lowering their center of gravity, hands in a ready position. Wolf made his first move, a slowly flying fist that Alex slowly deflected with a hand. It continued that way, until one of the impatient ones yelled at the two, "Come on, we know this already! Do the normal, full speed one!"

Wolf growled at their disrespect, shooting a glower at them that made them cower.

"Fine, okay. Wolf, you ready?" Alex said, to Wolf's surprise.

"Yes? I mean, yes."

"Okay, then. Let's do this and get it over with."

"Sure."

And so they sank back into their combat positions. Wolf, again, lashed out with a fist, but much faster this time. But again, Alex deflected it. It was like that: Wolf on offense, Alex on defense. But Wolf, who was accident prone—or maybe it was Alex. He was a trouble-magnet—hit horrifyingly close to Alex's bullet wound near his heart, which Alex hadn't told them about yet. It wasn't _on_ the wound, but it was close enough to trigger Alex's memory of something that he didn't know he remembered.

Something in his eyes shut down; even the recruits could see that. Alex snapped out a perfectly aimed roundhouse with incredible speed. And since Wolf couldn't deflect it, he was slowly pushed back. Alex's defense was great, and so was his offense.

"Cub! Cub! Cub, _stop!_ This isn't a real fight!"

After a few minutes of doing that, Alex blinked, confused.

"What the hell just happened? Why is Wolf in the corner like that?"

"_What the hell just happened?_ Cub, you just went psycho on us!"

"Oh… Right. I'm sorry. Maybe you should teach. I'll just… Sit out this one." Alex mumbled, head down, shuffling out of the dojo. He seemed deep in thought.

"Wait, Cub!"

Alex raised his head and eyes to look at Wolf. Wolf was shocked speechless; Alex's eyes were thoughtful, yet somehow haunted, although that was nothing compared to what he was when he first came to the SAS after the attempted assassination at school. Alex turned away to exit the building, and this time no one stopped him.

* * *

Alex was not seen for the rest of the day. When K Unit was about to go to sleep, they decided that if Cub wasn't back by when they woke up, they would tell the Sergeant.

Alex trudged back to his unit's hut. He had been in a trance for the rest of the day. He still remembered the flashback from when he was fighting…

"_Alex, I heard that you had a bullet wound just above the heart," a man—Alex couldn't see his face—mused._

"_Yes. Just two centimetres," Alex replied, wanting to shoot a roundhouse kick at the man._

"_You're a very lucky boy, did you know? The luck of the devil, people say," the man said, thin, delicate fingers tracing Alex's puckered wound. Alex shuddered involuntarily._

"_What do you want with me?"_

"_Nothing that you can't give, Alex."_

"_Who are you?"_

"_I will not tell you, although soon, you won't even remember this happened."_

"_Why?"_

"_That's for me to know, Alex. Now, brace yourself."_

"_Why?"_

"_You'll see."_

_That was when Alex realized that he had a blindfold on, and his hands and feet were strapped down. A gag and some kind of plug to deprive him of his hearing was inserted, and he could feel himself being wheeled away. One of his plugs was taken out for his captor to say, "Sensory deprivation, and solitary confinement." He savoured the ability to hear, until his hearing was blocked again. He felt like he was going to go insane._

* * *

Alex crawled into his bed—slash cot—and managed to fall asleep, however long it took. But as always, he was plagued by his nightly visitors, although the nightmare was different this time. It seemed like it was a continuation of his flashback.

"_Alex, we'll learn a little lesson today, and guess what the subject is?"_

_Alex growled._

"_I guess you haven't learned your lesson from the other one yesterday yet, have you?"_

_Alex snarled at the man that he couldn't see; the man was hiding in the shadows. "Why don't you let me see your face, then?"_

"_Those are only for me to know."_

"_I think you said that before."_

"_I know, Alex. Not stop mouthing off to me. First, we'll have water boarding."_

_Alex was strapped down on a wooden board, and was water boarded. A few minutes later found a deathly pale Alex facing a man melding with the shadows._

"_Alex, that was a disappointingly short lesson, was it not? Just in case you got bored, I will assign the guards to talk to you when you get to the cell."_

_When Alex arrived—by being dragged—in the cell, the guards positioned outside it started talking to him about everything and anything. He had told them numerous times to just "Shut up", but the guards never listened. Soon, Alex felt like he was going to go insane. His remarks slowly decreased, and his various masks slowly dropped… This was the worst torture session he had ever had. Psychological torture was much worse than physical torture, sometimes._

* * *

Alex woke with a start, dripping in cold sweat, eyes wide and panicked. He pushed the covers away, and silently walked out of the cabin. He padded in bare feet and a large T-shirt and shorts, and sat down heavily on the ground in front of the hut, back on the hut wall, breathing heavily. He looked towards the sky in a desperate way, and found himself gazing at the full, bright moon.

_The stars are bright tonight_, Alex mused. _And so is the moon._

Alex fell into a deep, peaceful slumber as he was bathed in the moonlight that seemed to stroke his hair to comfort him. This was the first time he had slept with no nightmares since his first mission, the first moment of peace.

And that was how K Unit found him in the morning.

* * *

**Does anyone have an idea of what Alex should do to Sullivan? **

**(Ideas welcome, obviously!)**


	4. The Angel At The SAS

**A/N LISTEN UP PEOPLE! Important! I have a schedule now:**

**Update every Thursday, until September. That's when I get busy, so yeah. Back to cello lessons, and such. So, during the summer, I'll be updating every Thursday! Okay? If I don't, then I'll give you an extra-long chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Look, I don't get why I have to say this all the time. I don't live in England. Oh, I'm not American, so I can't be Rick Riordan, Suzanne Collins, Veronica Roth, Cassandra Clare (I think), and so on. So _oh,_I _must_ be Anthony Horowitz! _OF COURSE NOT!_ I'm just a girl in school that writes on FanFiction. I'm not a man, anyway.**

* * *

_"An angel of God never has wings."_

_-Joseph Smith, Jr._

* * *

"_Cub?_" A K Unit member blurted out incredulously.

K Unit had woken up not to one of the cruel-yet-affectionate-in-a-cruel-way pranks, but to Alex's watch beeping like it was the end of the world. They had hoped that Alex was present, but there was nothing in his bed except air. The only proof that he was there was the sheets that were thrown aside in a messy way.

"What if he was _kidnapped_?" Eagle had wailed.

Wolf and Co. had rushed outside, practically drowning with panic, when they saw the teen curled up against their military hut wall in a peaceful slumber. They gazed at him fondly, soaking in the rare sight that they might never see again. Alex, with his fair hair shining gold in the bright caramel morning sun, a natural spotlight being provided for him with the rising sun, along with his eternal-looking tranquil expression, looked like an angel.

But as much as they wanted to savour that moment forever, they had to wake him up. They hated to see him with all of his masks, a habit that a fifteen-year-old boy like him should have never taken up. Again, however much they wanted to let him sleep like that for as long as he wished, breakfast time was coming up fast, and the SAS soldiers' schedule was close-knit; once you miss breakfast, you had to live with no breakfast for the rest of the day. With that in mind, they tried to nominate the unfortunate person that was going to ruin the picture-perfect moment.

After a few precious moments of pushing and shoving, poor Fox was pushed forward. But luck was on his side at that moment. Or maybe not; he had almost gotten a heart attack.

"Good morning, B–Fox. Sorry. I almost slipped; I must still be a little sleepy," Alex said, quietly.

"A–Cub? You're awake? Thank God! I mean… Good morning!"

"I've been awake since you guys have been childishly pushing and shoving each other in a great show of not sacrificing your comrades," Alex said, his voice vaguely amused. But what confused K Unit the most was the fact that Alex's face was exactly the same way that it was before: Tranquil and heavenly. His mouth didn't move at all.

"What the _hell_?" Snake sputtered.

That was when Alex turned to face them completely. He had a devilish grin plastered on his face, eyes glinting mischievously. _This was the most open they would see Alex when he was conscious_, the members of K Unit realized with a pang.

"Do I have something on my face, or am I really just that stunning to look at?"

The rest of the men flushed.

"Oh, why are you guys in your boxers and a shirt? And what about breakfast?" Alex asked them innocently, when he realized he was in knee-high shorts and a loose T-Shirt. He swore profusely.

"Whoa, where'd you learn _those_ words? That was alarmingly colourful for a teenager." Snake and Eagle said simultaneously, then staring at each other in complete, utter horror. But by the time they had turned back to go inside and change, Alex was back, in uniform, with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"You got our _clothes_?" Ben exclaimed.

"I wouldn't complain, if I were you. We're running out of time. And Wolf? Please do your laundry. They reek really bad. You too, Eagle."

After being on the receiving end of two glares, one out-scaring the other and being unaffected, the unusual five-membered unit made their way over to the mess hall.

No one paid any attention to the unit as they got their multi-coloured, inedible-looking, "nutrient-packed" squishy stuff. It was torture to their five senses: It was a pain to the eyes, the nose, the mouth, tongue, and stomach, and touch; it was nauseatingly flabby. Their hearing was tormented by the _gluck_ sound the muck made if squished just the right way. It was very… Ahem, _appetizing_.

All of a sudden, Alex, who was pondering on a weird subject in his head, he blurted out a question that blew K Unit's minds. "If you plugged your nose and mouth while you sneezed, would it come out of your ears or would you head explode?"

A stunned, speechless silence conquered K Unit for a few moments, until Ben and Eagle simultaneously burst out laughing, drawing quite a few people's attention. It wasn't many people. Ben and Eagle showed frequent signs of possible insanity, but when you questioned them about why they acted like it, they would just say that insanity is the best defense. But then Snake, unexpectedly, started snickering, and Wolf grinning. Why, you ask? Because this was one of the rare times when Alex acted his age. Or maybe a bit younger. But Alex was feeling giddy that day; he had had a good night's sleep, the first in _ages_!

Alex leaned in to the table that was assigned to his unit, gesturing for the others to do the same. Then, he started… "Anyone got any ideas for what we should do to Sullivan?"

Snake looked horrified. "Why do you hate him so?"

"Do you have to know? Does there have to be a valid reason?"

"_Yes, _of course!"

"Oh, _that_ must be why you were _so_ nice to me when I was here before."

"That time was different—"

"How, may I ask?" Alex demanded, his voice getting slightly angry.

"You were a rich brat with high connections and a rich daddy." Wolf butted in.

"Do you still think so?" Alex countered.

"Not anymore, because you are different now."

"Maybe I would have been like this before, too, if you gave me a chance to be _near you without being cruel to me._"

"Look, sorry about that. But why are you like that to that guy, anyway?" Eagle said.

"Sorry? _Sorry?_ " Alex seethed. They were ruining his day already.

"Al–Cub, they said they were sorry." Ben tried to tell him.

"Sometimes sorry won't cut it, okay?"

"We'll discuss this later. Just tell us."

And so Alex launched into his story about how he missed so much of school, after his uncle's death—when they tried to pry, he would stonily reply with a, "Classified."—and how Marcus Sullivan and his brother had treated him. Just to make his school life more dramatic—actually, K Unit just bugged him to spill more "secrets"—he told them about how he kept up his reputation as a "druggie" and how even though the pupils in the school didn't care, the teachers were eyeing him, worried about his education. Wolf actually _laughed_ at Alex and his life's problems—obviously excluding the whole '6 part—so hard that people turned to stare. With a stony glare, Alex ushered them over.

"Okay, so does anyone have ideas?"

"Make him swim extra laps!" Eagle piped.

"In the lake!" Snake added.

"Let's publicly humiliate him!" Fox grinned.

"Make him run extra. Work extra at the assault course," one of them suggested.

"We can trip him into mud!" chimed Wolf. Alex shuddered, remembering his first time at the SAS. That seemed to be where the men got their ideas.

"You can completely whip his ass when we practice hand-to-hand combat," Wolf added as an afterthought.

"Cub, me and you can pull some… _friendly_ pranks!" Eagle yipped. Alex grinned.

"Let's wake him up with a bang tomorrow," Alex finished.

"How many do we do today?"

"We can't do all of them at the same time. We should split it between different days."

"Right, sure. So let's make him swim today!"

"Uh, sure, Snake."

LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY LINEY

"Listen up, pests! We'll be observing how physically capable you are these few days. Today, we'll be–excuse me; _you _will be swimming laps in the lake."

Groans of protest rippled through the recruits. Hearing this, Wolf snarled, startlingly identical to his namesake, making the recruits visibly whimper and shrink down. Snake herded the inexperienced men to the lake.

"We expect you swim two laps within ten minutes! If your time is any worse, expect more friendly times with the lake with everyone here watching!" Eagle barked.

"What are you waiting for? Get _going!_" Fox snapped.

The not-quite-SAS-men hurried off to into the lake, stretching and taking off their heavy clothing, leaving their underwear on. K Unit recorded who was first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, oh, you get the point. From first to last.

As expected, Sullivan was last, falling back by about four minutes behind the second-last person, making him last. Alex smirked evilly, and along with Snake, advanced on Sullivan, wiping his face clean of emotion. He loomed over the older man, silent. Alex knew that silence would scare them the most at that moment, and stayed silent, until Sullivan looked up. His eyes widened when he saw Alex's impassive, emotionless face, gaze frigid and unforgiving; a look that shouldn't have been on Alex's young face.

"What are you waiting for? Go have your time with the lake. Two more laps, make it back by ten!" Snake snarled.

Sullivan scrambled back to the lake with a fearful yet hateful glare at Alex, obviously cowed. By the time he had done his two laps, the other recruits had gone to shower. But yet again, Sullivan's time was slow, albeit a bit better than before. After a few more laps, when Sullivan was dead on his feet, K Unit let him go shower and eat lunch.

"That was awesome!" Eagle squealed.

"Yep, it went according to the plan!" Ben yowled.

"Fox, did we even _have _a plan?" Snake countered reasonably.

"Uh, not really."

"I never even knew you could apply when you were that bad at swimming!" Wolf cackled.

But Alex didn't contribute to the remarks. When K Unit's eyes flickered over to an unusually silent Alex, they expected him to be grinning, or at least smirking, because facial expressions on the rest of the unit varied from smug grins, vicious smirks, to amused smiles. But instead of any of those expressions that they were thinking he would wear, he had the same icy, blank mask, eyes glassy.

"Hey, Cub? Want to go eat lunch now?" Eagle offered.

"Yeah, let's go." Snake agreed.

But Alex just nodded, mute. He followed them to the mess hall, completely silent; even his footsteps made no sound the ears of K Unit could pick up. They had to keep turning around to make sure Alex was following.

"For God's sake, Cub, make some damn noise!" Wolf exploded. Alex made no move to acknowledge Wolf's words, walking on, deep in thought. Exasperated, Wolf reached out to shake Alex, only to find his arm twisted behind his back. Wolf knew that all it took for his arm to snap was Alex's twist of his hands, which were on Wolf's arm. But Alex blinked, and as if waking from a trance, he let go quickly, not meeting the eyes of the astounded unit.

"Come on, let's go in," his voice muffled. He shot an apologetic glance at Wolf, who was rubbing his arm protectively.

_What was wrong with Cub?_


	5. Embers to Prod

**Longest one yet! 2, 228 words, according to Microsoft Word! I had around a page done before, but the power went out for a few minutes in m neighborhood, and I didn't save it, so _boom_, here's my remake. At least it's long, huh?**

**Important, please read the following:**

_**Anyways, I'm uploading this today (Monday, in my time) even though I said that I will post on Thursday because I'm going on a trip, and I'm not coming home by Thursday. I won't be able to upload from where I'm going, so I had to post this today. Since I'm leaving tomorrow. See? Not bad, huh? **_

**Disclaimer: Look, I just watched Spider Man in 3D last night at eight, being second in the lineup. Do you think Anthony Horowitz will do that when he has books to publish? Thought not. If he is... Oh, my. And also_, I am a girl._ _Anthony Horowitz is a man. Girl: female, Man: Male. Do you see the difference? Good. _Alex Rider belongs to his respective owner. Sorry, Alex. **

* * *

_"Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind."_

_-Robert Green Ingersoll_

* * *

As the close-knit unit made their way over to the stuffy, crowded mess hall of the SAS in Brecon Beacons, Wales, Alex's lousy mood lifted. He didn't look like he was depressed, and was actually attempting to smile. Of course, Alex, being the good spy that he is, made the false smile look perfectly genuine. K Unit was immensely pleased to have their sarcastic, witty unit member with a rude sense of humour back in place of the silent, solemn _stranger _that had replaced their Cub for a short period.

Alex chipped in some offensive comments here and there in his unit's casual conversation.

"Hey, Cub, what was up with before?" Fox asked, obviously concerned.

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah, Cub, you were, like, zoning out!" Guess who? Yes, Eagle.

"I was thinking," Alex said nonchalantly, lining up to get his serving of the best food in the world—dull-coloured, sloppy mush! Is that sarcasm we detect? Yes!

"_Right,"_ Wolf snorted.

"Hey! Don't be—" Alex was cut off as a foul-smelling bowl of mush and a bottle of water was shoved in his face. He sniffed, and wrinkled his nose distastefully.

"Calm yourself," Snake breathed, snatching his own serving from under his nose, grumbling about cruel cooks.

They headed over to their usual table, which was empty in seconds thanks to Wolf's glower. Alex had _relatively _relaxed, thinking the matter was dropped. He had actually been painfully reminded with a pang that what they were doing to Sullivan was what K Unit had done to him; the only difference this time was that Alex was on K Unit's good side.

"_So_, Cub, what was that _really_ about, though?"

"I told you, I was _thinking._ Why is that so hard to believe?" Alex grumbled, gesturing vaguely with his hands to prove his point.

"We never said it was."

"_Sure._ As if anything like that is to be believed when it comes out of your filthy mouth," Alex scoffed, shoving the rough, barely edible _stuff_ into his mouth.

"Hey! I take offense!" Eagle yelped.

"We don't really care, Eagle," Snake chuckled. Wolf, who was the only one that hadn't participated in the conversation yet, rolled his eyes.

"What are we going to do to torture Sullivan next, after lunch?"Alex asked, glad that the subject had drifted from him to something else.

"I don't know, what did we come up with this morning?"

"Tripping him into mud," Wolf butted in.

"Being publicly humiliated… A prank! Yeah! That's a great idea!" Guess who: Eagle. Good job guessing.

"Running extra laps in the hike," Snake said calmly.

"And the obstacle course!" Ben added cheerfully. How Ben had become so hyped up eating _mush and water_ evaded Alex's mind.

"You could crush him in hand-to-hand combat, right?"

"Probably…"

"_Probably?_ You ass, you handed me mine, so you can obviously chop up his and hand it back gift-wrapped!" Wolf growled, his dented ego speaking through his mouth.

Alex gave him a dead look. "Which one do we do first?"

"Mine!" they all coursed.

"If you are all acting below _my_ age, I'll just have to resort to Plan B," Alex sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Do Rock, Paper, Scissors. The kindergarten way to solve disputes. Shame on you, older men."

The _older men_ growled in unison, but did what Alex had suggested. Wolf won. A malicious, evil smirk—Wolf insisted it was an innocent, happy smile, but Alex knew better—slowly spread across Wolf's Hispanic face. Alex and the other members gulped audibly. Wolf+vicious smirk=something that you don't want to be a part of.

"Cub, you will do as I say."

"But Wolf—"

"_No, _Cub, _you will do as I say."_

"Wolf, listen—"

"_Cub! _Did you just _ignore_ what I have been trying to convey to you, or do you have selective hearing?" Wolf growled much like his endangered namesake.

"No, but—"

"God dammit, Cub, just listen to me!"

"Wolf, what the _fuck_—"

"Damn it, Cub, just do as I say!" Wolf yelled.

"No, Wolf, _you _listen to what _I_ have to say!" Alex snarled, rivaling Wolf's intimidating aura.

"I'm your unit leader! You need to bow down to my authority!" Wolf glowered, pushing his chair back, standing up threateningly.

"I don't want to _bow down_ to a person who takes advantage of their authority in a small bicker!" Alex snapped, also standing up. He was still around a head shorter than Wolf—curse his shortness—but radiated danger and suppressed anger, his body language promising a violent fight if the other didn't back down. By then, all of the eyes in the hall was directed at the fighting pair.

"Well, too bad, that's just your sad life!"Wolf snarled, leaning forward.

"Maybe so, but I have a higher clearance than you."

"Right, sure you do."

"You're so ignorant. You refuse to accept the truth. That will be the death of you someday."

"Like _you_ would know anything. Has your rich daddy told you this speech?"

"Do you always resort to the _rich daddy _and _rich parents_ comeback when you don't have anything smart to say? I'm surprised you lasted this long," Alex smirked.

"Shut your damn mouth."

"So I was right? I knew it. Why do you like that one? Are your parents rich brats? Or are you just that judgemental and opinionated?" a scarily quiet, yet somehow dangerous calm settled over Alex like a thick blanket covering sharp weapons. His eyes were sharp and analysing.

"I…" For once, Wolf was at a loss of words. He was taken aback by the sharp replies that were shot back at him at a breakneck speed. Wolf was also wondering to himself, _Am I really judgemental and opinionated? Or is he just saying that to get under my skin?_

"How would you know about my life? How do you know anything without me telling you? Do you really think that you're so important that the Sergeant will give you every file on every single thing in this campus? Do you have to know everything? Do you always have to the highest-ranked person in a room? I wish you would have some realistic dreams, jackass." Alex opened his mouth to say more, but Wolf had slumped, his confident posture nowhere to be seen. Alex glared at Wolf with a defensive ferocity.

"Cub," Ben murmured, reaching out for Alex's arm. Alex's head whipped around fast enough for his fair hair to whip his cheeks, and stared at Ben blankly. "Come on, it's over. Let's go. We need to talk." Ben coaxed. Alex gave a stiff nod, and followed Ben outside.

"Teach the newbies what you need to teach," Ben called over his shoulder as he led Alex out.

Once they were out of sight, Ben opened his mouth with a disapproving look present on his face. _Out of sight, out of mind._ Alex shot him a look that said, _Shut up, we're going somewhere more secluded._ Ben nodded. And so, they headed over the empty forest—they _knew_ it would be empty. There was a stupid rumour going around that the forest was haunted, but Alex and Ben didn't mind, because hey, they had spread that rumour. Also, Alex's Spidey-Senses weren't tingling so far.

"What was that about, Alex?" Ben yelled.

"Why do _you_ want to know?"

"Because I know you enough to know that you don't normally act like that."

"And just _how_ long have you known me? How _well_ do you know me?"

"I've known you for _months_, and you never tell us anything!"

"Do _you _tell your unit about every little detail about your spying experiences?" After a pause, Alex smirked, "Thought so."

"What crawled up your ass today?"

"Oh? Let me see… Wolf?"

"That's so many shades of wrong."Ben pulled a mock-disgusted face, but couldn't hold in the laughs.

"Ha, you know what I mean!" Alex chuckled.

"I can't get the disturbing image out of my mind! It's killing me from the inside!" Ben moaned pathetically, crumpling down like a princess, hands clawing at his head.

Ben's pitiful form crumpled at his feet and the disturbed look in his eyes was enough to set Alex's laugh-switch on. Alex's now impassive face broke out into a grin, and he started laughing.

"This is not funny, you sadistic bastard!"

"Ha–Ben–heh–you–ha–pathetic–hehe–you–ahahah," Alex laughed, barely able to breathe.

"Let's head back. My dress is ruined!" Ben whined, dusting off his military uniform, while dropping a curtsy. Alex rolled his eyes, smiling, and headed back with Ben.

When the pair arrived at the lake, they saw that it had been long since deserted. They visited the mess hall just in case, and saw it empty, too.

"Aw, I wanted the rest of my slop," Alex had said, mournfully eyeing the mess he had created standing up before.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they'll let you lick it off the floor. I'll get it all on tape, and post in on YouTube. We'll see what the comments say."

"Hey! That's illegal, posting stuff online without the person's consent!"

"… It is?"

"I don't know. I think."

"If you're not sure, just shut up."

"Okay."

After lots of digging, they had found the trainees, and the rest of K Unit stuffed into the makeshift dojo. Suddenly reminded of something he had always wanted to ask Ben, Alex opened his mouth to say—

"Cub! For god's sake, where have you and Fox been?" Snake hollered from the entrance of the "dojo".

"Hey Snake! We can always count on you to be the mother hen, yeah?" Alex grinned.

"Whoa, how'd you calm him down?" Snake gaped, staring at Fox, then Alex, and back at Fox.

"I… I made him say something funny, and then crumpled to the floor in a manly way at the disturbing mental image that popped up in my head." Ben said, chest puffing in "pride".

"Right. Uh, come on in, guys," Snake said, puzzled. Alex shot Ben an amused look. Ben rolled his deep blue eyes that were lacking the usual thoughtful look.

When Snake led them inside, they were met with many stares from many pairs of eyes, all aimed at Alex, who was standing proudly, shoulders drawn back, chin up in defiance. Ben rolled his eyes exasperatedly, as was Snake. Eagle eyed the trio suspiciously—why? Not even Alex knows that—and Wolf looked away from Alex, wanting to keep his dignity as intact as possible, even if it was very, _very_ dented after he backed down from the "bicker" with Alex earlier.

Alex turned to Ben, "I was going to ask you this before Snake interrupted: Can you do hand-to-hand combat?"

Ben nodded mutely, the joking twenty-something-year-old man that was present before nowhere to be seen. A solemn, serious-looking version of Ben was replacing the other Ben. Confusing, but the truth.

"How well?" Alex prodded gently.

"I don't know," Ben said, distracted. Alex followed Ben's gaze and saw… Wolf talking with Sullivan quietly, looking flustered. _What the bloody hell?_ was what was going round and round in circles in Alex's and Ben's head, even though Alex hid how confused he was better. He only let out an arching eyebrow—something he had picked up from our favourite Russian assassin. Alex's gears in his mind were working hard, trying to pick out the possible outcomes. His eyes narrowed a bit, but he then turned and tried to squish down his paranoia and a nagging voice in him that kept singing, _I knew it! I knew it! Why else would Wolf back down against _you_? Of course he had something in mind. You're losing your touch! I can't believe it! I bet he's planning something malicious behind our backs! Watch out! Don't trust him! Don't trust anyone!_

_Shut up,_ Alex tried to tell it. It sounded like him—no surprise there—and now he could relate to the people who were unfortunate enough to be within a hundred metre radius when Alex was extra paranoid _and_ on sugar high.

"Pair up and practise all of the skills that you have learned so far today," Snake hollered, breaking everyone out of their trance. They scurried off to find a partner. Sullivan practised with a random dude that he had never met before, and started practicing… _very slowly._

Alex snorted. He saw Sullivan's partner tell him to hurry up, and the others were way, _way_ faster than Sullivan. "Sullivan, get your ass over here! Let me show you how to do that. Your poor partner is bored out of his mind."

Sullivan's partner shot Alex an ever-grateful look before going to join one of his better "comrades" in a "battle".

When Sullivan trotted over with a glare in place, Alex smirked.

"I'll show you how you're supposed to do that. Now, just try not to pass out; I'll try not to give you too many bruises. Don't worry, I'm going easy. Now, we'll start slowly."

Then, right when he finished his sentence, Alex snapped out a complicated kick, the very one that the group had learned that day when Alex and Ben were absent. He was doing it slowly, okay? _Very_ slowly. He wasn't even lying.

_I can't believe that I'm doing this, but good luck, damn Sullivan. You'll need it, kind of. Even if I'm going easy._

* * *

**If you answer the random question of the week, you get a... _around_ two paragraphs (usually a bit more, probably, though, cause of dialogue) sneak peek! By Wednesday, 'kay?**

**Question:**

**If you own a piece of land (like, a property), do you own it to the core of the Earth? Explain.**

**If you don't want to answer it, that's fine. I just want to know what people think of this. Thanks for reading!**


	6. I Think It's Fine

**A/N Hiya! Here's your chappie. I totally failed at the sneak peek. I was planning to send it on Wednesday, but it turns out my mom had something planned, so I was out of the house for a good chunk of the day. Sorry about that. I sent it late at night on Wednesday. **

**Disclaimer: Do I... Are you really... MAKING ME SAY THIS? I... Don't wanna... NOOOO... Ooh! Pancakes! NOOOO! *Sniffle* okay, fine. N-O-T M-I-N-E. What does that spell? Not mine! **

**Guest: So, you think that unless you are told otherwise by the government, we own it? Cool! Thanks for your review! It's kinda sad because I can't PM you, though.**

**Guest: Wait... Are there actual mineral/surface rights? If there aren't... they should consider your idea! Thanks for your review!**

**Guest: "Amazing chapter"? I love compliments... even though I'm usually sheepish when I get them... Thank you, for the generous compliment, and the amazing review! (Amazing... yeah?)**

**Guest: It took me a while to come up with the chapter name... I'm happy that it paid off! I always wanted Alex to fight with Wolf. I was never fortunate enough to read one of the fights, though. So I wrote one! I... I honestly have no idea... :'( Thanks for your review!**

* * *

_"I don't want to sound smug but I am reasonably satisfied with how it's gone. I think it's fine."_

_-Colin Firth_

* * *

When Alex's relatively slow kick landed, Sullivan screeched in a very _manly_ way, as he would argue later on. His scream was so loud and blood-curdling that the other human beings—and any other thing that was alive in the room, probably—stared at the mock-sparring pair with wide eyes, expecting the worst. A certain Marcus Sullivan who had the ego the size of Earth a puddle on the floor, curling around Cub's combat-boot-covered feet, perhaps.

But all their scarred eyes witnessed was a grown man—in his twenties, perchance?—crumpled on the floor in a pathetic heap that hurt their _own_ manly pride in a sympathetic pain. Then, the wide eyed stares fluttered from the pitiful heap to the teenager that had crushed the man underfoot. Said teen was looking at them with wide puppy dog eyes. He was literally the _picture_ of innocence and harmlessness.

"Cub, what did you do this time?" Wolf sighed, having moved away from his corner when he and Sullivan had stopped talking.

"I didn't do anything! Why do you all assume that I did something that is unspeakably evil when there's a person crumpled on the floor in front of me? That's completely unfair! Not to mention judging! For all you know, I could have asked him something like, say, _"Do you even have a girlfriend? Or are you gay? I'm not a homophobe, don't worry. So, what's the boyfriend's name? How old is he?"_ and he could have fainted because I hit his secret spot on!" Alex cried indignantly, deceptively innocent eyes shining with false guiltless purity.

The look on Cub's face was just too sincere for the men. They lurched forward, crowding around their fallen possible-comrade. When they saw his pained face, they turned to Alex, faces doubtful. Everyone knew what they were thinking: _Do you really think that we're dumb enough to believe your crappy excuse? _ One of the men voiced their thoughts, none too politely, may I add.

"Hey, I never said that I _did_ ask him that. If I recall correctly, I said '_could'._ The dictionary definition of the word 'could' is, _"To express a possibility."_ So don't look at me like that!"

"Cub, really. We're serious. What did you do to him?" Eagle demanded, serious for once.

"I patted him on the back—" Alex started, but cut off as, one by one, deadly serious looks were directed his way. "Seriously? You really want to know? The truth?" he asked, voice long-suffering. He was rewarded with curt nods, the men bracing themselves for the worst. They thought that the best scenario was that Alex hit Sullivan's manly spot—ahem, his crotch, and they didn't even want to picture the worst.

"I, believe it or not, kicked him with the new move you taught the newbie. He was practicing so _slowly_ with his designated partner, that I took mercy on the poor guy, practicing with Sullivan instead. I actually _did_ go easy on him, though. I swear to God. It was a slow kick, even though it was a bit faster than the speed that he was practicing with. Stop giving me those doubtful looks! B–uh, Fox? Can I use you as a replacement of Sullivan so I can show them just_ how_ slow I was going?" Alex exclaimed, his pleading eyes now turning to Ben.

"Sure, A–Cub," Ben sighed. _They sure had a lot of slip-ups lately. Alex isn't like that… What's on his mind?_

"Okay then. What are you doing there? Come on, are you suggesting that you're scared of me with that reluctance?" Alex grinned.

"Hey! Let's stay on good terms here," Ben exclaimed.

"Sure, whatever. Come on, don't look so worried. I actually _didn't_ go fast at all, no matter what you believe," Alex chided, reading Ben's rather impassive face perfectly. Ben was startled, because that was a mask he had practiced for months, and no one had been able to read him with that mask on.

"Huh, sure. I'm not nervous. I'm just uneasy, because you might decide that I'm too hard to take on, and play dirty," Ben joked.

"You mean, hit you in the balls," Alex chuckled, going along with Ben's joke.

"Maybe. Bring it on, Cubby."

"My pleasure," Alex murmured, dropping into a typical ready position, lowering his centre of gravity to the balls of his feet. Alex watched with relaxed eyes as Ben imitated his position.

"Ready?"

"I was born ready."

Alex snapped out the same kick as earlier, same place, same speed. Ben had been ready for a high-speed kick, because he, like everyone else in the room, believed that no healthy man like Sullivan could have fallen from a kick as slow as Alex had claimed. But Alex lashed out slowly, and the certainty in his eyes made anyone who doubted believe that that was the original speed.

Ben's royal blue eyes widened in shock at the sheer _slowness_ of the kick. I'll stop emphasizing the whole _slowness_ of his kick now. The others mimicked his action, eyes the size of saucers.

Alex grinned smugly, "See? It wasn't even that hard, _or_ fast. He isn't even really passed out. Look—his eyelids are fluttering, and he can't keep still. Those things tend to happen if you're dreaming, and you _can't_ dream if you passed out. So, obviously, he's pretending to be unconscious, and can't keep still."

Now that they looked, the saw that _yes,_ what Alex had pointed out was really happening. One of the fallen man's buddies nudged the male with his stiff, not-yet-broken-in combat boot.

"Let's go, we should be heading to the obstacle course right about… Now," Wolf called over his shoulder, walking out of the dojo.

* * *

"Okay, maggots, get to the front! I'll be recording the time, and the rest of K Unit will be running with you this time!" Wolf hollered.

Loud shouts of _Yes!_ came from the trainees, and an even louder wail of _NOOOOO_ came from the rest of K Unit. They all glowered at Wolf, and Eagle and Snake were grumbling about how Wolf was selfish and inconsiderate under their breath, although it was loud enough for Wolf to hear, obviously.

"Hey! No complaining. Get to it, you—" The rest has been censored for the young souls, for it contained words that not even your parents knew… Unless they were in the Navy for a very, _very_ long time.

Once they got started, K Unit—minus Wolf, who was probably watching it all and laughing—were beating the trainees by kilometres. But then, Snake spotted something—

"Hey, what's that?" Snake.

"I think… Is that a—?" Eagle.

"I… I think it is, Eagle." Snake.

"What? Let me see. Impossible! How could he?" Fox.

"I never thought he would we this smart." Snake.

"Oh, no, but he used this trick before, when I was here the first time." Cub.

"But we were helping him!" Eagle.

"Aren't we underestimating him a bit?"Cub.

"Probably." Fox.

"But… Do we even care?" Snake.

"Pfft, of _course_ not!" Fox, Eagle, and Cub.

That was the conversation of K Unit—again, minus Wolf—when they encountered a thin, almost invisible string on the ground, not yet put up as a trap. They could almost _hear_ what Wolf wanted them to do in his voice—hide and let the others pass. Since Marcus Sullivan would be in the back, uh, the _very_ back, when he comes, pull it taut, so he will fall and embarrass himself. Then, Wolf would make him run a few more laps because hey, he was really late. K Unit would catch up later.

* * *

They let the others pass, hiding in different places. Alex, the smallest of the four, had been appointed the lucky person to pull the string. After long minutes of waiting—they felt like hours—their soon-to-be-victim appeared. The more experienced shared a knowing look, before Alex pulled the string just at the right moment—a gut feeling, perhaps?

Sullivan toppled, heads over heels. The rest barely managed to rein in their mocking snickers. Sullivan recovered quite quickly, looking around. When he spotted no one in particular, he sped off. Jogging. Panting like a dog.

"_I don't want to sound smug, but I am reasonably satisfied with how it's gone. I think it's fine," _Alex quoted smugly.

"Whoa, Cub, did you just…?"

"I think he did."

"What?"

"I think he just quoted someone!"

"Hey! How'd you know?"

* * *

Cub, Fox, Eagle, and Snake had cut, so they were in front of the other trainees. They had spent more than months in the camp, and they had Alex in their unit. Alex would have found every hidden passage in the SAS campus in mere weeks.

When they reached Wolf, the first thing that was out of Wolf's mouth was "So, did you trip him?"

The four sighed and rolled their eyes, but nodded. A few seconds later, the others arrived. But even after a few more seconds, Sullivan didn't show up. Wolf was impatiently tapping his foot, and was uttering some insults under his breath.

"Come on, Wolf, I'm sure that he'll come in a few minutes," Snake told him, ever patient. And sure enough, around five minutes later, Sullivan showed his grumpy face, said face red.

"Why were you so late, worm?"

"I tripped. I think something was there to trip me! You did it on purpose right?"

"_What?_ Don't accuse people of things they didn't do!" Alex growled, looking indignant and angry. The others were surprised by his acting skills, but kept their surprise to themselves.

* * *

After the day of fun, the five relatively friendly people crashed at their cabin-ey place. Alex had managed, yet again, to hide his scarred body from the other human beings at the public showers, a feat he had barely managed so far.

He crawled into the bed/cot, bracing himself silently for the memory-induced-nightmares that would surely come and visit him in their dreaded nightly visits.

* * *

**I really hate this chapter. I really do. I'm ushering the story on, because I want ACTION _**

**But I think this story will be a little over ten chapters, at most. But don't worry, hopefully the sequel will be better.**

**No sneak peeks this chapter... ^^**

***My answer for the other question was Yes, because I don't think that we, as humans, have the right to claim that we own it all. We actually don't own the Earth at all, right? So what's different about the core? Nothing. Nothin'. Noth'n. It's like we're claiming the moon to be ours or something... But that's only my opinion, not the fact of the universe or something.**


	7. All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

**A/N OMFG I'm so sorry...**

**The chapter is so fucking short! I... *sigh* Okay, I admit it. I might have a _wee_ bit of the symptoms of the disease called Writers Block. I barely managed to squeeze out this chapter, which is why it's so short. I don't know if anyone actually _reads_ my Author's Notes, but to anyone who is reading: Any pointers, any way that I can improve? Hmm... I should probably add those questions to the bottom of the page, where people actually _read..._ **

**SO SORRY!**

**Disclaimer: Eh... Anthony Horowitz≠Me (Pessimistic Guardian Angel). That should be enough...**

* * *

_"All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost;  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."_

_-J.R.R Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring_

* * *

"_How was your stay?" the man sneered. Alex didn't reply—he was too tired, mentally and physically._

"_Oh, come on, Alex. Don't tell me you're fed up _already!"_ the sadistic captor cried, mock-horrified. Alex managed to gather himself enough to let out a disgusted grunt at the man._

"_Let's go over your lessons so far—what did you learn?" _

_When Alex didn't reply, he said it louder, more forcefully. _"What did you learn?"

_He asked, over and over again: "What did you learn?" and Alex would reply with a stoic, but cracked silence. With every question that was unanswered, Alex would receive a kick to his ribs, legs, or arms. _

_Finally, when Alex couldn't take any more, he managed to grind out, "Sometimes the worst kind of torture is the torture to the mind." _

"_And what kinds of psychological torture did you experience so far?" the man asked sweetly._

"_Sensory deprivations, solitary confinement, and sleep deprivation."_

"_And the one where I had the guards talk to you overnight without stopping," the madman sang._

"_Monster… Inhuman…"_

* * *

And so, Alex woke up in cold sweat. Again. He frowned, and turned over on his sweat soaked bed to check the time on his watch, which he had conveniently placed on the left side of the bed—the one facing the other cots. His sheets were already fully soaked, soaked enough to not make a sound when he rolled over to his left side.

_5:47AM_

Alex grunted quietly, knowing that Lady Luck was smiling down at him, for once; Britain's elite soldiers were supposed to wake at six in the morning, and he had woken up at 5:47. He got dressed, deftly lacing up his combat boots.

_5:50AM_

Great—just enough time to half-deafen the rest of K Unit. He carefully eased his iPod—Smithers made—from under his sweat-damp pillow, unlock it, turn up the volume to a 100%—which was around fifty times louder than any normal iPod, thanks to Smithers—and play one of the most crappiest songs he had ever heard; it was a screamo song that he won't name because he wanted the people in the unfortunate band to at least make a living, however minute their profit was.

_5:53AM_

He was ready; he had positioned his iPod in the middle of the room, where the ear-drum-tormenting song would be equally heard among the four soon-to-be-victims.

_5:56AM_

He grinned, and put on his earplugs—Eagle snored, okay? But he stopped putting them on after Eagle's snoring woke him up from a dreadful nightmare—and wrapping the pillow and sheet around his ears just for good measure.

_5:57AM_

He fished his phone out from his bag—a gift from Smithers for his birthday, a nice change from him 'forgetting to return' the gadgets like the iPod—and got the video camera ready. Of course, the video would be grainy because it was taken on a phone, but it'll have to do. He'll have blackmail material, and You Tubers would love it.

_5:59AM_

He had set the timer to go at six _sharp,_ and he couldn't wait. The time was near…

_5:59:47AM_

A few seconds more…

_6:00AM_

As the blasted music filled the cabin, the members jolted awake with various reactions:

Snake simply sat up with an alarmed yell.

Eagle screamed and clung onto his pillow, crumpling to the floor in a pitiful heap much like Sullivan, hands covering his abused ears.

Fox landed on his feet, eyes wide and searching the harmless room for any danger.

Wolf roared, the sound overall angry with a touch of distress, landing on his feet, hands groping his bed for any weapons available. Apparently, he had just decided to make-do with the pillow, for he drew the pillow like a gun or possibly, a sword.

And Alex? He collapsed onto the floor in hysterical giggles, having filmed the whole thing.

"Oh my God, this is _rich!"_ he cackled, running out of the hut, barely managing to dodge the heavy combat boots and feather-light pillows thrown his way with surprising force.

* * *

When the SAS men who were the unlucky victims of Alex's affectionate, cruel, antics stumbled out of the army hut, still half-deaf, they settled their glares—some were strong, some were less than strong—on the "perpetrator"—eh… Not really—who was smiling cheerily.

"How was your day, lads?" the culprit said sweetly, stretching out his British accent to a maximum.

"Cub…" they growled simultaneously, eerily in sync.

"Come on, we'll be late for breakfast! I _know_ how much you men love the glop they call food!"

* * *

When the quintet finished their unappetizing, stomach-churning breakfast—the breakfast menu was the ever-popular Glop, Sludge, or Unappetizing Muck—they headed to the designated meeting place for the trainees. Just as Wolf opened his mouth to holler about the training that they were to do that day, the Sergeant walked over.

"Cub, meet me in my office," he barked, tone clipped and sharp.

"Yes sir!"

A tidal wave of _Ooh_'s, _Busted_'s, and cruel laughs followed the Sergeant's curt message, trailing after Alex.

Many had puzzled looks on their faces, but the majority had opted to just lay back and insult the poor kid. K Unit just stared at the quickly disappearing back of a certain Alex Rider, also known as Cub.

* * *

**Sorry for the crappy chapter... Again. I don't know what's wrong with me. Actually... I do. I think I might have come down with a _wee_ bit of the disgusting disease called Writer's Block.**

**So any pointers, advice, grammar checks, are appreciated. Thanks! (Critisism too... You guys know I'm not an experienced writer... I'm pretty new. Not sqeaky new, but more like... a faded glow new. Still new, but not as new... xP)**


	8. Memento Mori

**A/N Ah hahaha, I'm back. Again. Miss me? Thought not. I'm not one for writing huge A/Ns in the beginning, because I _know_ no one reads them when they're too long. Just wanted to say one thing: Thanks for putting up with me and my writer's block. Thanks, a lot. It means a lot to me. I should probably reply to your reviews... Soon. Heh, sorry if I don't reply right away. Just rest assured that I read them!**

**Disclaimer: Okay. My eyes teared up from the strong A/C in my mom's car and looked like a wimp. And my dog is really dirty right now. I'm supposed to shower. I'm supposed to be in bed. _So, _I'm currently too lazy to come up with a halfway decent disclaimer, so I'll just say this: A little birdy told me that _I do not own Alex Rider._ I felt hurt, but I knew it was right.**

* * *

_"Memento Mori." _

_A Latin phrase that roughly translates as:_

_"Remember your mortality."_

_"Remember you must die."_

_or_

_"Remember you will die."_

* * *

"Cub, there is someone that would like to see you," the Sergeant ground out, tone frustrated.

"Yes sir," Alex said, walking meticulously over to the office door that the unhappy sergeant had pointed out, knocking cautiously on the door.

"Come in," a much too familiar female voice called from the other side of the door, voice muffled. There was a faint, but still unmistakable lisp to her words that was caused by her peppermint sweet.

Alex turned the handle, entering the room warily, for every time he came inside a room with Mrs. Jones or Mr. Blunt, unfortunate things happened—missions, blackmail, so on and so forth.

Sure enough, there sat Mrs. Jones behind a wooden bureau. The only thing that surprised him—even a minuscule fraction—was that Mr. Blunt, the unnaturally grey head of Military Intelligence Sector Six.

"Alex, do sit down," the peppermint-lover said, hands gesturing casually to the chair that was pulled up parallel to the desk. Alex, obviously, obliged.

Common courtesies were exchanged, and Mrs. Jones got straight to the point.

"Alex, there is a new terrorist group lurking," she started testily, and Alex could guess what was coming next. "We have had a spy planted inside, but he died as soon as he found out that they were planning to assassinate the Russian leader, staging it so it looks like the United Kingdom did it, so there would be something alike to war—perhaps even a full out war—between us and the Russians. We have to send in someone that the group, Caliginous, doesn't know about."

_Which is why we want to send you in,_ Alex finished in his head mockingly.

"Which is why we want to send you in," she said, sure enough. "It won't be dangerous. We just want you to prowl around, keep an eye on them."

_Ha, right. That's what you always said, wasn't it? _Alex thought bitterly, mind automatically flipping through memories of missions.

"If it helps your decision any, I'd like you to inform you that Ms. Starbright's visa is expiring soon."

_Of course, she'd just _have _to add icing on the cake, didn't she? A new terrorist group that can't come up with a halfway decent name, planning to start something alike to war between us and a powerful country, a glaringly obvious lie about the safety of the mission, and now, to top it off, blackmail. Nothing better to freeze up the atmosphere than blackmail, _he scoffed mentally.

With a defeated sigh, he grumbled, "Can I go see Jack first, though? Pack, and… stuff."

"Yes. Smithers shall provide you with the gadgets after you meet her, then. Please drop by the Bank after you visit your housekeeper so we can tell you a more detailed version of the mission, and also so Smithers can hand you the gadgets."

He knew there was a hidden dismissal, and walked out of the office.

* * *

K Unit knew something was wrong when Cub didn't return in an hour. They eyed the general direction the Sergeant had led their youngest teammate to, unexpectedly concerned.

Once they had gotten the trainees started on the exhausting assault course, they opened their mouths, and…

"Do you think Cub's okay?"

Telepathy. Yes, that had to be it.

Wolf grunted. Snake quirked an eyebrow. Eagle snickered. Fox grinned.

"We'll see later, won't we?" Wolf said, answering their question. The rest of K Unit—minus a certain teenage boy—nodded their agreement.

* * *

As soon as Alex arrived at the barracks, he packed up, gathering the small amount of personal belongings he had brought.

Clothes, books, school work, iPod, a Smithers gadget disguised as a common item, more clothes, Smithers gadget, his phone, another Smithers gadget.

He snapped his wristwatch to his right wrist—an illusion. Most would think that he's left-handed—and started to head out. When he turned back, there wasn't a trace that anyone had slept in the general area of the small, uncomfortable bed that was stuffed against a corner. The bed was made neatly, area cleaned.

With that comforting thought, Alex Rider headed out.

* * *

_Still no sign of Cub._

The depressing thought echoed and bounced around in their heads as they made their way to the mess hall. He _had _to be there, to eat, right? Yes, he _had to be._

* * *

Alex walked to the entrance of the SAS training camp, to look for a dark jeep screaming _Espionage! Spies! James Bond!_

He was surprised to find that there wasn't a suspicious jeep waiting ominously at the entrance, waiting for a teenager to enter it to whisk him off to his Chelsea home. Alex frowned, genuinely puzzled. He had thought that there would be a vehicle waiting for him. A bus, a car, a motorcycle, _anything._ But the muddy land was empty of such modes of transportation.

Still frowning, Alex waited. And waited. And waited.

His hunger finally getting the better of him, he decided that he could come back later, after he ate the disgusting, yet stomach-filling mush. After all, a little food couldn't help, right? It was a 3 hour-to-4-hour ride, anyway.

Or so he repeated to himself as he sulked to the mess hall.

* * *

With his stuffed duffel bag on his back, he entered the place where edible things were served. As usual, the lunch menu was: monochrome mush or somewhat colourful mush. He chose the monochrome mush.

When he accepted his tray of his unappetizing lunch, he headed over to the table of K Unit, only to be greeted with icy stares.

"…What?"

"Where were you?"

"I was talking to someone at the office."

Wolf was about to open his mouth to rattle off a question, when he was interrupted by a baffled Eagle.

"We had an _office?"_ He was ignored. After all, this was normal.

"Who were you talking to?"

"_Someone._ Why? Did you miss me? That's sweet," Alex said with a sarcastic roll of his hard brown orbs.

"No, we didn't," Wolf growled, speaking defensively for the rest of the men.

"What's with the duffel bag? You running away?" Ben grinned, trying to lift the mood. Instead, it spiralled downwards.

"Yeah, Cubby, what's up with the duffel?" Eagle.

"Spill." Wolf.

"Cub, you know you can tell us, right?" Snake.

"It's nothing, really. No, Fox, I'm not, ahem, _running away._ I _can't._ You guys would catch me too soon, it wouldn't be worth it," Alex countered.

"Right. No, seriously. Spill."

"Why?"

"We're your unit," Wolf tried to reason.

"I wasn't before," Alex murmured, rolling his eyes.

"What? I didn't catch that."

"Nothing you'd like to know."

"Children, children. Let us all solve this one big mystery together, shall we?" Eagle chided.

"Where'd you hear _that_ line? Some crappy movie?" Ben snickered.

"Hey! I came up with that all on my own this time! That comment hurt!"

"_This time," _Ben parroted, mocking Eagle.

"Cub. Are you leaving?" Snake, the most sane of them all, nudged them all back to the original topic.

"Eh… Would you believe me if I said that I was camping?"

"No."

"What if I said that I was going to go visit my surrogate sister and housekeeper because a bank—that's secretly MI6—told me that I had to go on an important mission because there was a terrorist group with a lousy name that wants to assassinate the Russian leader to cause a mini war between Britain and Russia?"

"Er… No…"

Ben raised an eyebrow at Alex because he knew that the bank part was true… But of course, he thought the rest was fake. Of course.

"What if… I said that I was going to _your house,_ Snake?"

"_No._"

"Are you going to believe anything I say that's different than, _I'm leaving to visit my family_?"

"_No."_

Alex sighed irritably, shoveling the gravely substance into his mouth. "Okay, Snake. Let's have it your way. _I'm leaving to visit my family."_

Snake scoffed. "I didn't mean that you should tell me that if it's blatantly obvious that it's a lie."

"How do you know that I wasn't telling the truth on my other ones?" After all, the one detailed one _was_ true.

"I know because they are not possible."

"You don't know that. Okay, fine. I'm going to go visit my surrogate sister—also my housekeeper, guardian, and… No wait, that's it—because her visa is expiring soon, and because I got a call that there have been problems with my bank account." That was the half-truth, so it technically counted.

"You could have told me that from the start," Snake grumbled. Alex shot him a flat look that Snake didn't notice.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open from their unimpressed-half-open-look that was directed at the man named after a reptile and he scrambled up, gathering his things. After throwing the food away without as much as a second thought, Alex hurried out of the mess hall, calling a hasty goodbye to his unit-mates. He was stalked by confused looks until he exited the busy building.

He jogged to the entrance of the SAS training camp, expecting a stereotypical vehicle to be parked there. And sure enough, there it was: The black tinted windows, sleek car, driver with dark sunglasses. Yes, the vehicle that wanted everyone to know that there were suspicious things going around that was related to the vehicle.

When he neared the car, he demanded to see the man driving the automobile's ID. He wasn't going to jump into the car of a stranger naïvely with no proof that he was the right man. When the ID was confirmed with a quick once-over, Alex hopped in, bracing himself for a long ride back.

* * *

Alex opened the door to the house he had called home all of his life. The hallway was dark.

"Jack?"

The kitchen had some light streaming in, but that was because of the window.

"Jack?"

The living room was alight with sunlight, but there was no sign of his guardian.

"Jack? I swear… If this is a prank like last time, I… This isn't funny!" Alex exclaimed, getting more agitated by the second.

He trashed the house swiftly, looking for any signs of his apparently missing guardian.

"Jack?" His voice seemed to echo in the empty house. Worry was brewing in dark clouds over his head as his brows creased uneasily.

He looked to the fridge, where Jack would usually put reminders, and where she was heading to if Alex wasn't home. It was the same as ever, seemingly undisturbed. But things were ruffled up quite a bit… Although, that could have just been Jack or him, right?

He looked around for clues. Anything. _Anything._

But then, he found it; a note. A hastily scribbled note informing him of his surrogate sister's whereabouts. But he knew that the handwriting wasn't that of Jack's. And now that he looked around the room, there were signs of struggles.

The hand clutching onto the piece of paper trembled.

"…Jack?"

* * *

**Mmkay. Can you guys do me a favour? Just a tiny one, I swear. But only if you want to. **

**So... for those who want to:**

**Can you rate this chapter from 1 to 10, one being the absolute _worse _piece of Fanfiction that you've ever read in your whole entire _life,_**

**and ten being... No wait, you can figure it out, I bet. I don't expect a ten, so don't pressure yourself. Please give me your honest opinion, I will not be offended. **


	9. Visions of a Flame

**A/N I know, I know, I'm sorry... But sorry doesn't cut it, does it? Damn... Just know that I've been really busy... But I know that that shouldn't excuse me from typing out chapters. I'm sorry... Sorry... Sorry... September is nearing and so is my busy times. I should probably reply to the reviews...**

**Disclaimer: I shall own Alex Rider when Hell freezes over. Which won't happen anytime soon, you know? So no sue. **

* * *

_"False hope is a terrible thing, if it's the only thing that's keeping you alive, you'll be dead by dawn."_

_-Charlie Rae_

* * *

_If you ever want to see her in your petty little life again, come to the fountain in Trafalgar Square at 18:00 on Thursday the 25__th__. _

_If you bring anyone, _anything, _any backup, we will know; we will know and we will kill her with no hesitation. _

_Come at your own risk._

* * *

Alex's eyes fluttered over the threatening message for the umpteenth time, brain not yet catching up. He noticed absently that his hand was trembling uncontrollably. He felt disconnected from his body; from the situation; from his life. It was like a giant piece of the puzzle that was his life had been ripped away from him, rendering him incomplete.

His brain was working at high speeds, but he only registered one thing, mulling it over: _Why meet at such a public place like a square_? _Wasn't it bad for them if we meet there, because there would be many, many witnesses? _

But he, ignoring the voice of what most people would call_ reason_ that was ringing annoyingly in his shocked head, decided that he must, _no matter what,_ go. Alex also knew that Mr. Blunt would send people in if he didn't appear at The Royal and General soon, which means that if he left this note somewhere where the agents would notice it right away. And then, those low-level- to- mid-level- agents would report to the Head like the good little spawns they were, hopefully leading to MI6 finding and rescuing him and Jack in the end.

With that ridiculously simple—yet still possible—plan in mind, he headed out.

_Well, I might as well make use of the two spare hours._

* * *

"…What?" Snake said blankly, voicing the thought that was drifting around freely in their military-soldier heads.

"Why'd he just up like that?" Wolf grumbled, confused.

"You think I'd know?" Ben responded, just as confused. Wolf grunted.

"Do you think he'd be at the cabin?" Eagle voiced. The four very confused men shared a glance, stood up, dumped their trays, and walked to the cabin, eerily in sync.

Wolf threw the door open, barging in. His vocal cords strained, braced for his intolerable yelling. And yell he did.

"Cub, why the bloody hell—" he started, but stopped when he realized that the subject of their earlier conversation was missing from the place where they slept as well. In fact, the whole general area where Cub had slept was disturbingly in order, his cot/bed smushed into the farthest wall, fitted snugly into the corner. It was as if he was never there. Of course, K Unit would have been glad if that had happened a few weeks ago, but Alex had grown on them, once he had warmed up to them.

"Hey, where'd he go?" Eagle exclaimed, further solidifying the truth that Alex was gone for an unidentified amount of time.

"I don't _know._"

"Maybe we should… check the… main entrance? If he really _is_ leaving, he couldn't have _already _left, right?" Fox said, and the others decided his idea was reasonable enough. The four men once again scurried to the entrance of the Special Air Service camp, eyes flying over the crest and motto that was reminding them of where they were in and _why _they were in the camp.

"Hey, isn't that him?"

"You mean the guy with fair hair, on the short side, and wearing a SAS uniform? I'm guessing it's him."

"Pfft, you're talking like there are other human beings visible to us right now other than him and us."

"Boys, boys, let us stop arguing and approach him like the mature, professional people that we are."

"Eagle, I think you've used that line already."

"I have?"

"Yeah. But you used _Children _instead of _Boys._"

"Oh… Whatever. Do I look like I care?"

"Yes."

"I forgot to mention the sarcasm, please excuse my mistake."

"Whoa… Eagle, where'd you learn how to form grammatically correct, professional, mature sentences? You're growing up so fast!"

"Shut up, Fox, Eagle. Cub's in hearing distance."

"So? He bears with Eagle's stupidity all the time."

"Hey! My intelligence quotient is pretty high up there, you know?"

"No, I don't know. Let's just talk to Cub, okay?"

"This isn't over, Foxy."

"Oh, _I know_."

"Shut up, I'm going to call to him. _Cub, you brat, get here right now, where do you think you're going?_ Oh no, oh no, he's getting in that suspicious looking, slick car. Should we save him?"

"Nah…"

"But what if he's kidnapped?"

"You're right. I, Eagle the Brave, shall rescue him!"

"Did you guys notice that Eagle's the odd one out in our unit? The rest are land animals, but Eagle's codename is a bird."

"That means I'm special!"

"Or it could mean the opposite."

"What's the opposite of special?"

"Where's the thesaurus I got you for your birthday?"

"Snake, I don't _want _a thesaurus. They're boring."

"We're digressing."

"I know."

"Hey, where'd Cub go?"

"He went into that evil-looking car and got driven over to who-knows-where."

"Shouldn't we care more for his safety?"

"Probably."

"Err, okay…"

"Does he know our phone numbers?"

"_Why _would we give him our phone numbers, Fox?"

"Come on, Wolf. Didn't we?"

"No. Even if we did, why would he even _call _us?"

"Wolf, don't be so pessimistic."

"Eagle, your optimism sickens me."

"Thanks, Wolfie-Boy. It's nice to know you care."

"Does he know our address?"

"Shut up, of course he doesn't."

"Who do you think he talked to earlier?"

"How the bloody hell should we know? He never said."

Suddenly, it clicked into place for Ben. Someone wanted to see Alex. After the talk, he goes and speeds off to somewhere in a suspicious-looking car. He wouldn't say where he was going or who he was talking to. Wasn't it obvious? It was MI6. He probably talked to Mrs. Jones, because Blunt was just not the type to come and talk to people when others could do it for him.

"Uh, guys? I think… I think I know where Cub went, and who he talked to."

* * *

The minutes were dragging by, ever so slowly. He counted the hours; he counted the minutes. Hell, he counted the _seconds. _He knew that the possibility of getting Jack was minuscule, something right there next to _Impossible _in the probability line, but he had to _try. _

They had probably done it to capture him, because Jack and Tom were the leverages people had over him. Yes, he still had friends in school; there were lots of 'druggie's in school, and in their eyes, he was no different to the other students that did drugs. Yes, he would still sacrifice a heap of things for them, for _anyone _that didn't do anything overly bad; for innocents. But they probably knew, like the MI6 did, that Jack and Tom meant the world to him, over anything else, which is why Jack—not Tom, not yet, for which he was thankful—was targeted.

Time had seemed to crawl by, but when he looked back on it, he couldn't exactly pinpoint what he had _done _to pass the seemingly-eternal two hours. But here he was, at the designated time, at the designated place. With no one but him knowing where he was. The odds were stacked against him, but he was willing to bear it all if Jack could come away safe and sound.

Alex didn't know if he should be glad or not when the people milling about—tourists, with a few locals sprinkled in here and there—increased greatly in number. It could work against him, and, at the same time, it could work in his favour. His nerves were tingling, paranoia getting the better of him as his eyes whipped from side to side, trying to take in everything so he knew what to expect.

That train of thought only served as a reminder of his stupidity and recklessness; he didn't know what to expect, let alone _who_ to expect.

Right on cue, a man—no more than twenty-six—with wavy, ear-length hazel brown hair and eyes of the same colour waved him over with a polite smile.

"Alex Rider, I presume?"

"You presume correctly, sir. And you are?"

"That's not for you to know, kid. Follow me," the man said flatly, gesturing for the boy to follow him into the depths of London, weaving in and out of alleys. Alex complied with the fast-withering hope that Jack might be somewhere.

He turned the corner, beating down the remaining paranoia with an imaginary wooden baseball bat even if he knew that wasn't helping his case.

He didn't even have time to think, _Oh no, _as a ragged, wet rag was forced upon his nose and mouth, assaulting his senses with the sickly sweet scent; Alex tumbled into the dark embrace of unconsciousness.

* * *

**Thank you a ton for your ratings!**

**(You guys rated higher than I would have rated myself... But then again, I'm usually my toughest, harshest critic.)**


	10. Twisting Strings of Fate

**A/N Yes, finally on schedule! I wrote this yesterday... While, at the same time, watching a TV show online. And then, my dad came home from work, and I had to delete the tab with the TV show. I was so close to the middle, too! I'm not familiar with the drug names (Meh, only a few street names that I'm familiar with) so I thought chloroform was _chlorine._ I'm ashamed. The one thing that I _really _suck at is coming up with titles, so my titles for chapters and stories generally just suck. There are no other words to describe it. They are just so... _ugh. _Don't have much left to say, so... off to the disclaimer!**

**Disclaimer: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I don't own so please don't sue. Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, and Z. Now we know that I don't own Alex Rider so don't sue. **

* * *

_"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."_  
_― Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul_

* * *

Alex woke to the gag inducing smell of rot and the dankness of a disgusting cell. As his brown orbs fluttered open, he took in his surroundings, moving as little as possible. His head was pounding in perfect sync to his heartbeat, kicking his ability to think clearly into oblivion. He painfully turned his head to observe a particularly large stain that clashed noticeably against the dull cell.

_That must have been some really strong chloroform, _he grunted to himself… in his head.

His fingers twitched, then his hand. His arm soon followed, and the opposite limb did the same. He then lifted both limbs to massage his throbbing temples to soothe the irritating ache, grumbling to himself about stupid knockout drugs. He sat up, stopping his almost silent rant just so he could grunt, then resuming.

Now that his body was somewhat more used to moving around, he looked around more carefully, taking in the minor details. The cell was unimpressive, to say the least. It was a medium-sized metal cell with a hard-looking door to block his escape. Said door had a tiny barred window to let in air at the top, and a small, lockable, _metal _doggy-door to let in food. He couldn't even _see _the lock; that was how thick the thing was. The old-fashioned cell in which he was being held captive in was, as baffling as it was, _offending. _Was that all they could do to keep him there? They couldn't even afford a decent-looking place for him to sleep? There wasn't even cot present!

_At least there's a washroom with a toilet that probably doesn't work and a sink that most likely drips dirty water, _he tried to console himself, failing. He went to check out the rusty sink and stained toilet, and sure enough, the toilet didn't flush successfully, and when he turned the tap for the abominable sink, he only got periodic drips of murky water.

Alex trudged back to his spot—the only relatively clean spot in the whole cell, including the bathroom—but instead turned on his heels to inspect the stains. They were the dried up, nauseating brown of dried up blood. And oh, _ew, _was that a _bone? _Revolted, he stood on his little bubble of less-revolting things until his mind drifted to his missing housekeeper. _Jack. _

* * *

"_What?"_

"I said—"

"We heard what you said, you idiot. But what we're confused about is _why you didn't tell us before,_" Wolf growled, frustrated.

"Calm down… Deep breaths. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. That's it, you're getting it! Now, a bit slower… Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale."

"Shut it, Eagle."

"Aw, but _Wolf…_"

"Eagle, this is serious."

"_Fine."_

"Okay, Fox, spill."

"I… um, uh…"

"Oh my God, just _spill, _Fox_, spill._"

"Mrs. Jones," Ben spat out, saying the words so fast that they barely understood his words.

"Miss Juns? Who's that?"

"The person he talked to."

"I don't know any Miss Juns…"

"That's because _I _don't know any Miss Juns either."

"But… If you don't know her, why would you mention her?"

"I didn't."

"Uh, I think you did."

"I didn't."

"Stop denying it, Fox, cause that's just not cool."

"I'm denying it because it's the truth."

"But I swear, you said _Miss Juns!_"

"I think you heard wrong—"

"—because you were saying it really, _really _fast. And oh, that must be _my _fault?"

"You guys are so immature."

"I know, right? But please embrace that fact, because we were _born that way!_"

Silence. Complete, utter silence.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Let's just pretend that never happened."

"Sure."

"What, why?"

"Eagle, just… never mind."

"Aw, don't keep secrets!"

"Mrs. Jones. Her name is Mrs. Jones."

"We're not keeping secrets!"

"I think you are, Snake."

"No we're not!"

"Then why would you say something like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like… _'Never mind,'_"

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Cub was talking to Mrs. Jones."

"I think it does!"

"Wolf, don't join in this!"

"I think I can!"

"And _why_?"

"Because I have more common sense than you."

"Ooh, now it's _personal._"

"Cub was talking to Mrs. Jones, the deputy head of—"

"When were things _not _personal for you, Eagle?"

"You've _got it now!_"

"Come on, Snake. Help me a bit, I need more retorts."

"Sure, Wolf. Eagle, what do you want for your birthday?"

"Ooh, ooh, _chocolate. _Can you rent me a chocolate fountain?"

"—MI6."

"Are you sure you want a dictionary? We could go for a thesaurus again, if you'd like."

"_No!_ I want a chocolate fountain, not a… a… _dictionary!"_

"And I'm pretty sure that he was sent on—"

"You don't want a dictionary?"

"No!"

"Then a thesaurus it is!"

"_What? No!"_

"—a dangerous mission."

"_Snake!"_

"I am saying something very classified, so I think you might want to listen."

"Ooh, secrets! I _love_ secrets!"

"I thought you didn't."

"I only don't like them if I don't know them."

"So that means most secrets, right?"

"Why are you guys so mean to me?"

"It's fun."

"Not fun to me!"

"That's why it's called _bullying._"

"Seriously, guys. I know who he was talking to and I _think _I know where he went."

"Really? Then tell us the secrets, Foxy!"

"You guys are hopeless. Mrs. Jones."

"_Oh, _so it was _Mrs. Jones, _not _Miss Juns!_"

"That's what I've been telling you all along."

"No, you—"

"Please ignore him. Isn't Mrs. Jones the woman I was talking to at the insane school?"

"I…think so."

"She's high up in the ranks, isn't she?"

"You have no idea."

"Really? Who is she?"

"She's…" Ben looked around, trying to spot any onlookers or eavesdroppers. And finding that there were none, he turned back around, still lowering his voice to a rough whisper. Just in case.

"She's the deputy head of MI6."

"_What?"_

"You heard me."

"B–but… why would Cub talk to the deputy head of _MI6?_"

"Ssh, be quiet. This isn't a joke, you can't just go around _blurting _that stuff for everyone to hear. SAS soldiers can be as gossipy as schoolgirls."

"Okay, okay. Now, can you explain why Cub was talking to the deputy head of _MI6?_" Wolf said, his voice lowered, although it rose at the last word of his sentence.

"I'm… I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you this."

"We already know about MI6."

"I know. But... this is _personal information _about Cub, and I'm not sure if he'd want you guys to know yet."

"And please _do _explain _why you know._"

"I met him on a mission."

"I–you–he… _What?_"

"I don't actually know that much about it, myself. I just know that he went on missions for MI6."

"So… That insane school stunt wasn't a one-time thing? It wasn't some coincidence that he was there, too?" Wolf asked, almost afraid of the answer. _Almost. _

"No, I don't think so. Anyway, if he went to talk to Mrs. Jones—which I'm ninety percent sure that he did—then… wouldn't he have gone on a mission?"

"It could have been something different. Like, say, she could have been telling him that he could go back to his home, back to his parents," Snake supplied.

"The Sergeant could have told him that."

"Wait, what if the sergeant _had _talked to Cub? Not that Mrs. Jones person?" Eagle pointed out.

"No, but the Sergeant was making his _I-don't-know-what's-going-on-and-I'd-like-to-know _face. You know, the pissed off one?"

"Oh, yeah, I know which you're talking about. So, you think that Mrs. Jones sent our Cub on this… mission," Snake replied.

"Yeah, I think so. The suspicious-looking car doesn't help. I've seen lots of those back at the Bank. I think they think that the cars as so stereotypical that the enemy won't suspect them."

"Ha, that's true."

"But… what should we do?"

* * *

Alex knew that they would come for him sooner or later. He hoped sooner, because the cell just wasn't interesting anymore; his curiosity decided that poking around wasn't worth his stomach churning like mad, so he was sitting down, staring off into empty space, eyes glazed, lost in his own mind and thoughts; the latter wasn't as pleasant as the former. But soon enough, his eyes tired and felt heavy. He fell into a light slumber.

A few hours later, he was woken up none-too-gently by his cell door crashing open. He couldn't help but jump awake, halfway to a heart attack, much to the cruel amusement of the man—for he had a bulky build that was too broad for any woman—which he showed by cackling gleefully. Alex despised him already.

"Ha, sorry to wake you like that, boy. Have you seen the room we've given you? It's one of the best we have," he sneered.

"If this is one of your best, I'd hate to see your worst," Alex breathed under his breath.

"Now, let's get down to business. If you had a decent working brain, you'd figure out that you can't exactly escape right now. I'm blocking your way, and I have men behind my back."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out the moment I woke up. I can think, you know?"

"Got to love your attitude, kid. You've got guts. But unless you _want _to be broken, you'd better get your mouth under control."

"At least _someone _appreciates my wittiness."

"You wittiness won't save you, kid. It'll bring you unwanted misfortune, so as I said before, you'd better get it all reigned in."

"I'm not a kid."

"I think you are. Boy, you're fourteen."

"It's fifteen, now. My birthday passed a few weeks ago."

"A year doesn't make that much of a difference."

"It's what you've seen and experienced that makes you age. I think that I'm much older than fifteen."

"You probably are, if the things that are rumoured about you are true."

"I have rumours?"

"Of the things you did, yeah."

"That's so _cool!_"

"Not really."

"Why not? That means I'm famous."

"Infamous, you mean."

"Well, kind of like that. I'm just trying to find the silver lining in my life, you know? It's hard, and you're not making it any easier."

"I'm glad. Alex Rider, is it?"

"Yeah."

"Rider, do you know why you're here?"

"I was clinging to false hope."

"Being foolish? That is so _you._"

"You don't know me."

"I heard a lot about you, and that's enough. Almost everyone in the underworld knows about you, now."

"Everyone loves gossip, eh?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Hey, do you know where Jack is?"

"Who?"

"A redhead."

"We have many redheads."

"A woman in her twenties."

"We employ many people."

"You know who I'm talking about."

"Yes, I do. But I'm not about to just… _tell you._"

"Of course not, you guys never do that."

"You refer to us as the bad guys, I presume?"

"Of course."

"You know that there is no true good and no true bad, right?"

"Yes."

"Then why would you ask such a question?"

"Just."

"Here, thought you might like some food. And clean water. The sink doesn't work, as you might know."

"The toilet doesn't, either."

"It only works once a day. Never routine."

"Smart," Alex grunted, catching the sandwich the man threw at him, and the bottle of water.

"I can't really see you; just a silhouette. Did you do that on purpose?"

"Obviously. Eat up, kid," the man said, closing the cell door behind him.

"I'm not a kid!" Alex objected to the closed door, knowing the man was listening. And sure enough, his smug laugh was heard through the small barred window.

* * *

**Okay. I need to say something. **

**So... I just want you guys to know, that I can't really... ahem, respond to PMs. So if I ask something in the reply to your review, and you feel the irresistable urge to reply to my reply for your review, please reply to my reply for your review at your next review... if there is one. Otherwise, just... ignore it? I don't know what I'm saying. *jumps onto a horse's saddled back and rides away into the sunset***


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